Family (SPN)
by Fat Puppy
Summary: Sam tries to overcome a brutal attack with the help of his family. (Season 12)


**Title: Family**

 **Fandom: Supernatural**

 **Summary: Sam tries to overcome a brutal attack with the help of his family. (Season 12)**

* * *

"Hey, mom's back. She's askin' how you're doing."

"Dean…"

"I know, man, but you can't put her off forever. It's mom. She just wants to see you."

"I can't talk about what happened, Dean. Not with her."

"You told _me_. She's family, Sam. She'll understand."

"She will, but I don't want that look. That look of her _knowing_ , every time I see her. I know that she'll know what happened, but she doesn't have the details. I can't do the details. Not with mom. It was hard enough with you and the doctor. I don't need…I don't _want_ …anyone else to know those things."

Dean sighed. He knew his brother spoke the truth. The attack – it's what they were calling it – had been brutal and prolonged. Sam seemed able to hold things together as long as he didn't have to talk much about it. He had spoken of it; that first day in the hospital with the doctor, so that they could properly treat his injuries. He'd confessed a much more emotional version later that same day with only Dean in the room; because Dean was his brother and emotionally, the only outlet he'd ever had. And as talented as the Winchesters were at pushing feelings inward and saying they were 'fine' or that they could handle it on their own, Sam knew this time was different.

Though as much as he'd shared with his brother, the only thing Mary Winchester knew was that the attack had happened, he'd been drugged, and the event had damaged Sam on a physical level. Of course she knew that emotionally, her youngest would suffer, but he'd been unwilling to talk to her, or even see her since they'd gotten home two days ago.

"Dean, please."

Sam fidgeted on the padded kitchen chair. The all-over-body pain made it difficult to sit or remain in one position for long periods, but his brother had done his best to make the seat comfortable for the short term.

"Sam. She just wants to see you. I'll tell her, no digging. I will. But we've not had our mom around for most of our lives. We have her now. She needs to see you."

Eventually Relenting, Sam held his bruised hands around the warm coffee mug and nodded. Dean was right. "Okay. I just…I'm being weird about this, I know that. But it's not easy. And I'm still a little fuzzy from the drugged they used on me."

"I know. And you're not being weird. You _are_ weird, but that's a general statement." The reward of a slight upturn of Sam's lips came at Dean's gentle teasing. "But about this, not weird."

"You won't tell her either, Dean, right? About everything?"

"Promise, little brother."

"Thanks. Where's mom now?"

"She said she'd be in her room. Sharpening knives and cleaning guns. You know, the usual way that Winchesters deal with stress."

"Yeah." Sam got up.

"Need me with?" He didn't want to be pain in the ass, but on the outside chance Sam needed the support…he'd fully expected him to say no.

He didn't.

Sam nodded. "Maybe so."

"You got it, Sammy." Dean shifted into protective big brother mode and they slowly walked the bunker to Mary's room.

"Hey, Mom."

In gentle surprise, Mary turned from her weapon cleaning and moved swiftly toward Sam intending to wrap him in a motherly hug. One quick look at Dean though and she immediately slowed the pace.

She was still 'getting to know' her youngest. She'd been dead all these years. Sam didn't know what it was like to have a mother. For so long, he'd had only his brother. And although Sam was the more openly emotional of the two, it was Dean, not Mary, who knew every single one of Sam's ins and outs.

She stopped a short distance from the youngest of the Winchesters.

"Sam. It's good to see you up and around. How are you feeling?"

"Still a lot of pain, but the pain meds are helping. It's better some."

"I'm glad." Stepping another foot forward, she held her arms outwards. "Sam?"

Sam took the same step and accepted the hug and the love from his mom.

After a few seconds, he could feel the pooling moisture in his eyes and battled inwardly to not give in. Not here. Not now. Not with Mary. Not yet. He wasn't ready. He may never be. And he didn't want to give her a doorway to start asking the most personal of questions.

From his side, Sam felt a settling hand on his shoulder. Dean was there. Of course Dean was there. His big brother was being the most subtle of buffers in this impossible moment.

"I know you don't want to talk to me about this, Sam," Mary said. "I know and I get it. But as your mom, I'm here if you need me. I just want you to be okay. And you are not okay right now, I know that. I do. But you will be."

With a nod into his mom's shoulder, Sam pushed away and swiped at his eyes. "Thanks, mom. No, I'm not okay. Not yet. But…we've…I…"

Dean stepped in when he heard the falter in Sam's voice. "Sammy and I...we've been through hell too many times to mention, Mom. This is just another version of that same hell."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "That."

Smiling sadly at her sons, Mary pushed no further, accepting that she may never enter that intense depth of dependence and understanding that her boys shared; those things that had come from years of being the only one that the other could rely on. She did hope that one day they would trust her and love her as she was now rather than as the memory of what they'd never had as children in her absence.

"I love you _so_ much, Sam. Dean. If I had been there when you were kids…"

"We love you too, Mom." Dean responded. "You're here now. That's what matters."

Sam had taken a step toward the door, uncomfortable with the emotions swirling around and threatening to spill out in Mary's presence. "Hey, I'm uh…gonna go get a shower," he said before escaping the room.

Mary turned to her oldest after Sam was gone. "He's afraid to tell me things."

"Not so much afraid as uncomfortable. They really messed with his head, Mom. And it was violent and personal and all those feelings no one wants to talk about, and others died around him that he tried to save, but couldn't. He loves you, Mom. He does. With all that he is, he loves you. Because that's Sam. He may be the toughest son of a bitch on the freakin' planet and he wears his damn emotions right there, but he's not ready for his mom to see the things that eat him up inside. He'll be okay. Just get that he won't share this with you. No matter how much time passes."

" _You_ know though." Mary responded, eyes lowered for a short second.

"I do."

"You'll be there for him."

"Always."

A gentle smile. "Then that's enough for me. As long as he has his brother there to love him and look after him…that's enough."

Dean wrapped his mother into a tight hug, then held her away.

"How about some high-voltage caffeine to get the morning started?"

"Yes! Please! What about Sam?"

"He'll be in the shower for a bit. We have endless hot water here and with all the pain he's having, it takes him a bit to clean up. And he'll need some time to…"

He abruptly ended the sentence before spilling further about Sam needing time clean up _emotionally_ after his shower. The hot water made him think too much. Sam had told him yesterday that he'd lost it completely after coming home from the hospital and standing under that first shower to scrub clean; it's when everything had come crashing down all at once.

Had Dean been surprised that his brother had told him of the break down? After all, they didn't often voluntarily venture that deeply into each other's emotional center.

Truth was, he had been surprised. And at the same time, he hadn't.

Sam was in a place he'd never really been before. Of all the trauma's that had assaulted them over the years, neither of them had ever faced an attack on such a personal and physical level. Sam had come out of his room an hour after that first shower and sat gingerly across from Dean in the kitchen. As Dean had gently joked about how long he'd been in there, Sam came right out and told him. He'd broken down under the hot water, sliding to the floor, unable to stop himself from crying.

"It happens, Sammy," Dean had responded softly switching gears immediately while at the same time acknowledging it his own past shower crashes. "You deal however you need to. And I'm here. Okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Sam had given a short nod, appreciating the support and love from his family.

"Dean?" Mary brought him back to the present. "He needs time to what?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. He just needs time to dry that mop on his head is all. So it takes him a while after a shower to get himself dry and functional. Come on, let's get that caffeine."

()()()()()()()()()()

Two hours later, Mary had gone for a food run and Dean walked the hallway to Sam's door. He didn't knock, but Sam knew he was there.

"You can come in, Dean."

Reaching his head around the cracked door, "You good?"

"I'm good." Sam lied, but Dean knew and expected the automatic reply when he heard it. It's what they did. It's what they expected of each other. It was kind of their thing. Sam's eyes still rimmed with a tinge of red that hadn't yet cleared after another emotive shower.

"Liar. I just hope you didn't use all the hot water."

"Dean, we never run out of hot water."

"Not yet, but you keep usin' enough of the stuff to fill a Great Lake and we'll see." A wink. A smile. "Come on, Sammy. Let's get some breakfast into you. A man your size can't live on coffee alone."

They walked the hall toward the kitchen. "Where's Mom?" Sam asked.

"Food run. It's all good. She asked, but it's as far as it went. What happened…that talk we had at the hospital…was you and me, brother. And it'll stay that way."

"Thanks, Dean."

"Any time. Just do me a favor. If shower-time stops helping, let me know. We can get the hell out of here, take Baby and escape for a while. And the British Men of Crap can do their own damn hunting. Deal?"

"Yeah. Deal."

"Good. Now, a grease-i-fied bacon and eggs meal awaits. Gimme a few and breakfast will be served. None of that fruit and green juice weirdo health crap today, Sammy. Big brother Dean is cookin', so have a seat and get ready for an experience."

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

With a snort, Sam sat carefully to wait for the upcoming meal, watching his brother put on his little breakfast show. The goal, they both knew, was for Dean to help Sam refocus and forget for a while.

It helped.

As silly and ridiculous as it was…it helped.

* * *

The End


End file.
